


If I Could Know Within My Heart

by elaine



Category: due South
Genre: M/M, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-04-11
Updated: 1999-04-11
Packaged: 2018-11-10 19:48:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11133519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elaine/pseuds/elaine
Summary: Ray tries to adjust to life with his new lover. This story is a sequel to To Hold the Hands I Love.





	If I Could Know Within My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

 

"Hello, Ray. How may I help you?" Turnbull's face, upturned and smiling, made Kowalski cringe a little.  
  
Sometimes he thought that everybody must know about them, when Turnbull smiled at him like that. And yet nobody had said anything. But what were they supposed to say? Are you having sex with this man? Are you fucking him and enjoying it? And what could he answer if they did? Sure I am, and maybe one day I might even let him fuck me, just out of curiosity? He shook his head helplessly. Both the questions and the answer were impossible. Whatever anybody thought, nobody would say a word.  
  
Turnbull was looking at him quizzically. Kowalski made himself relax and smile a bit. "I'm just here to see Fraser. I need him to help me out with a stakeout tonight."  
  
"Oh!" Turnbull blushed and looked flustered, even though they'd had this out before. Fraser was his partner, not Turnbull, and apart from the fact that he'd rather have Fraser behind him in a dangerous situation than Turnbull anyway, it would look pretty strange if he suddenly started taking Turnbull with him on stakeouts and cases.  
  
All the same, a rush of guilt made him uncomfortable, and discomfort made his voice more abrupt than usual. "Is he in?"  
  
"Oh… oh, yes… I'll just see if he's available." Turnbull rose awkwardly from behind the reception desk and stumbled over his own feet. He regained his balance and fled down the narrow hallway, disappearing into the murky depths of the Consulate.  
  
Kowalski shook his head, exasperated, amused, and feeling strangely protective, all at the same time.  
  
*  
  
Nothing was happening, and nothing was gonna happen. He'd had a feeling about it as soon as they'd arrived, and his feelings were never wrong. Not about stuff like this, anyway. Kowalski grinned to himself and snorted softly. If his instincts about police work were as lousy as his instincts about relationships, he would never have survived this long.  
  
In the passenger seat Fraser turned his head and raised his eyebrows enquiringly. They'd hardly spoken a word in the last hour.   
  
"Nuthin'… I was just thinking."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Fraser seemed ready enough to fall back into silence, but suddenly Kowalski felt like talking. Except how was he supposed to talk about what was on his mind without giving himself away totally?  
  
"Uh… Fraser? Say you were in love with someone, but you couldn't have that person, but there was another person… somebody who maybe loved you. And you kinda liked that person. Maybe… maybe it's not love, but you like them a lot and…" he almost gave up then, unable to say what he wanted to say. Not really having the courage to blurt out the truth, not even to the Mountie, who he could trust more than anyone else in the world, except maybe for Turnbull.  
  
After a long silence Kowalski dragged his eyes away from his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel and looked across at his partner. Fraser was staring down at his hands, clasped in an equally tight grip. His cheeks were an almost deathly shade of pale.  
  
"I'm sorry, Ray… I… I don't know what to say…" The quiet voice faded into inaudibility.  
  
After a moment's confusion, he realised what Fraser must be thinking. "Oh, jeez, no. I don't mean…" Shit! How could he get out of this? He returned his gaze to the safety of the steering wheel. "I mean… I know… about you and Vecchio. But I didn't mean… I wasn't talking about you and him… I mean, I  
wasn't making a move on you, or anything…" The silence from the other side of the car made him wonder if he'd made an even worse blunder. But he was as sure as he possibly could be, having never seen Fraser and his alter ego together, that he was right about this.  
  
Fraser didn't answer, and, sneaking another look at him, Kowalski was suddenly absolutely certain about it. Fraser and Vecchio had been lovers. Why else would Fraser have that look on his face? The blank look that masked every emotion, except for one part of himself he couldn't control… the eyes  
that showed his awful suffering. The rigorously controlled face remained down-turned, but Fraser began to blink rapidly.  
  
Hell! He ought to do something, but what? In the face of his partner's continued silence, Kowalski fought the urge to just get out of the car and run. Instead he reached over and patted Fraser's shoulder a bit, the same way Fraser had comforted him after the Beth Botrelle case. Better than nothing, he supposed.  
  
Eventually Fraser looked up and raised a finger to brush away the wetness on his lashes. He smiled shakily. "I'm sorry, Ray." The soft voice had thickened, the Canadian accent more noticeable than usual. "I was rather leaping to conclusions."  
  
"Yeah. You sure were." Kowalski grinned to show there were no hard feelings.  
  
Fraser smiled again. "What was it you wanted to ask me?"  
  
"Nuthin'. It doesn't matter." Right now, his own uncertainties were the last thing he wanted to talk about. "So, are we on for the game on Saturday? You, me, the Ice Queen and Turnbull?"  
  
"Oh yes. I believe Turnbull is especially looking forward to it." Fraser hesitated, his brow wrinkling slightly. "Are you  _really_  sure you want to go to a curling match, Ray?"  
  
"Sure. Why not?" Kowalski shrugged and grinned. If all else failed he could always start teasing Turnbull, that ought to be good for some entertainment value…  
  
*  
  
There was a naked Mountie in his bed.  
  
Kowalski stood staring down at his lover, wondering what on earth he was doing there. He'd told Turnbull he'd be out on the stakeout all night. He'd honestly thought he would be, until they'd got the call that the man they were supposed to be watching had been arrested in a drugs bust on the other  
side of the city. For once he hadn't particularly cared that his night had been totally shot to Hell. All he'd really wanted was to get away from Fraser's pain, and to get some rest.  
  
Asleep, Turnbull looked very different from the overly conscientious Mountie of the daytime. His hair, released from its normal rigorous control, stood in disorderly spikes, and his long, angular face was relaxed. He was clutching a pillow to his chest.  
  
A smile tugged at the corners of Kowalski's mouth. Turnbull had probably looked like that when he was a kid, still sleeping with his teddy bear… He sat on the edge of the bed and gently removed the pillow from his lover's grasp.  
  
The blue eyes opened, and Turnbull smiled up at him, blinking sleepily. "Ray… what time is it?"  
  
"About two-thirty. The stakeout got called off."  
  
"Oh." It turned into a yawn. "Sorry, Ray." Turnbull sat up and stretched, yawning again.  
  
Kowalski shrugged. "That's OK. What are you doing here, anyway? How'd you get in?"  
  
"I wanted to catch you before you left, but I was too late." Turnbull blushed. "The landlady let me in and I just... I hope you don't mind."  
  
He did, really. The domesticity of it made him nervous, which was why he hadn't given his lover a spare key in the first place. Still, he could hardly say that. They'd been seeing each other for nearly two months now. In less than a week it would be Valentine's Day, and if Turnbull had been a woman, he'd be planning a romantic dinner and an expensive present. Well, a present, at least. His bank balance didn't exactly stretch to expensive.  
  
Instead of trying to sort out any of the chaotic emotions that churned in his belly, Kowalski leaned forward and kissed the Canadian. Almost before he knew what was happening, he was on his back, having his clothes removed while a tongue thoroughly explored his mouth. Give a Mountie an inch and… he fought back, wrestling with his lover until their positions were reversed.  
  
He grinned triumphantly down into laughing eyes and lowered his head to rub his cheek back and forth against the soft, sparsely scattered hairs on Turnbull's chest. A long sigh indicated approval, so he turned his head just enough to capture a hard nipple between his lips. An even more ecstatic sigh  
greeted his actions. He nibbled gently at the sensitive tip.  
  
"Oh! Oh, Ray!" The body beneath his shuddered and the sturdy hips thrust up against him. Large hands cupped his ass, drawing him closer.  
  
So, Turnbull wanted it hot and hard tonight? Well Kowalski was more than willing to oblige him. Together, they managed to finish getting his clothes off, though it would have been a lot faster if either one of them had been working on it alone. Kowalski pushed the sheets aside and slid down the much  
larger body until his head was level with Turnbull's groin.   
  
He waited then, stroking the thick shaft and watching his lover's response. Delaying the moment when he'd take its hardness into his mouth. Anticipating the taste and the feel of it. He never would have thought he'd learn to enjoy this, but it had been so easy. Sometimes it still shocked him that he liked it so much. Not often, though. Not any more.  
  
Turnbull was making helpless little noises, and Kowalski watched as his cock twitched and pulsed, the cockhead gleaming wetly in the dim light. Strange to be able to watch this very masculine response… he knew his lover's cock as well as his own. Better, maybe. When he was on the receiving end he was far too distracted to notice these details…  
  
The scent of the pre-cum was starting to drive him crazy. Kowalski took the cockhead between his lips and allowed his lover to plunge deep into his mouth. Turnbull's body writhed beneath him, seeking its own pleasure, and for a moment he had the urge to release his lover, to straddle his hips and take that all that hardness and heat into his own body. To ride the storm of his passion and meet it with his own.  
  
It didn't last. It never did. But one day soon, Kowalski knew, the impulse would become too strong to be denied. And even that thought didn't bother him any more. It wouldn't be tonight; another impulse, just as strong, just as impossible only a few weeks ago, was building and he wasn't going to resist this one.  
  
He slid away from his lover, and Turnbull watched him go without a murmur. His trembling fingers made everything difficult, but in the end he managed it and turned back, the lube warming, a viscous puddle, in his palm. Turnbull was ready for him, long legs drawn up, his cock lying arrow straight across his belly.  
  
Even the clammy feel of the condom couldn't detract from this feeling that he had whenever he was inside his lover. He wondered if Turnbull felt it too. When he looked into the blazing blue eyes, he had no doubt of it. Kowalski began to thrust fiercely, claiming his lover. Possessing him. And  
Turnbull was an eager accomplice to his own possession. The thought startled him, breaking his concentration and his rhythm.  
  
"Ray?" Turnbull's voice was cracked and unsteady. "Is something wrong?"  
  
"I can't do this." He realised it was true as he said it. He pulled back, withdrawing his suddenly wilted cock from Turnbull's body. "I just can't…"  
  
He couldn't face the shocked look on his lover's face, and turned away, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He leaned his elbows on his knees and dropped his head into his hands.  
  
"Ray?" The soft Canadian voice was close behind him. Hands gripped his shoulders gently.  
  
Kowalski pulled away. "I'm sorry…" he wanted to tell Turnbull to leave, but that was hardly fair. "I'll sleep on the couch, OK?"  
  
The hands came back, and refused to release him when he tried to move. "You're shaking Ray. Tell me what's wrong."  
  
Words wouldn't come, and Kowalski shrugged helplessly. A moment later he was enveloped in a firm embrace and pulled back down onto the bed. He'd never been so aware of the difference in their sizes. It was impossible to move… he could have got free, he supposed, but only by hurting the other man,  
and he wasn't prepared to do that.  
  
He lay, trapped, and listened distantly to Turnbull telling him some long pointless story. Probably one he'd learnt off Fraser… oh God, Fraser… Fraser and Vecchio… and them being apart… and Fraser in his car, crying… and him, missing Stella. Missing her less and less every day he spent with his own personal Canadian, but not being quite ready to let her go. And here was this Canadian… wanting him, loving him… giving himself in a way he was afraid to accept, because if he did, he'd have to give himself right back to a crazy, hopelessly klutzy, puppy-loyal Mountie, and it would be forever. It  
would have to be forever, because neither one of them was the kind to give up on a relationship… and how could they do it? Two guys, being together in this country; in a society that said two guys making it together in bed was more disgusting than two guys trying to kill each other? It was impossible.  
  
"It's not impossible, love." Lips brushed across the top of his head. "Others have done it. We can do it too."  
  
"But…" had he been saying that aloud, or was Turnbull a mind reader? Either would have seemed a possibility right now.  
  
One of those large hands began a gentle movement along his spine. "It's all right, Ray. Just go to sleep."  
  
"Are you  _crazy_? My life's a mess. I'm in love with a  _man_ , for God's sake! And you tell me to sleep? I can't sleep." But he did.  
  
*  
  
He'd said it. He'd actually said it. OK, so he'd been so wound up, he'd hardly known what he was saying, but he'd said it all the same. Waking up with Turnbull in his bed, being held in his arms, the only thing Kowalski had been able to think about was the fact that he'd actually said he was in love  
with a man. He'd thought about it so hard, it was a miracle they'd made it to the Consulate without an accident.  
  
And now Turnbull was sitting there, looking happy and obviously in no hurry to get out of the car. If anybody saw them together…  
  
"Uh… Ray?"  
  
"Yeah, what?"  
  
Turnbull blushed vividly. "I was just thinking…"  
  
"Well,  _don't_. Look where thinking's got us." Kowalski took in the kicked-puppy look on the Mountie's face, and interrupted his stammering apology. "I'm  _sorry_. I didn't mean it, OK?"  
  
"All right, Ray."  
  
He still didn't look very happy. Kowalski tried not to sigh, and had the feeling it showed. "What did you want to say?"  
  
"I didn't…" Turnbull blushed again at Kowalski's irritated look. "Or, at least… perhaps now isn't a good…"  
  
"Look. You just gotta stand up to me, OK? You got rights. Just tell me."  
  
Somehow Turnbull faded out, and it was the Mountie who straightened his lanyard and cleared his throat commandingly. "I thought that you might start calling me Renny." The Mountie wilted slightly under Kowalski's bemused stare, and Turnbull surfaced again. He swallowed and struggled on, rather  
defensively. "It's my name."  
  
"Renny." Kowalski considered it while his lover watched him anxiously. "OK, sure."  
  
A relieved smile crossed Turnbull's face. "Well… I'd better go in now…"  
  
"Hang on a minute." Kowalski made a grab for the leather strap and pulled him back. He cupped his lover's face in his hands and kissed him soundly, not caring if any one saw them. "So what are you doing tonight, Renny?"

 


End file.
